Every Day Thoughts September
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favourite characters.
1. Sep 1

_A/N:_ _For Intro, please see Every Day Thoughts January._

Every Day Thoughts September

_**Sep 1**_

**Where you have friends you should not go to inns. – George Eliot**

Tony scanned the squad room as he walked through it. Good. Gibbs, Ziva and the Probie were all in.

He needed help and quickly. And although he was used to depending on his teammates to watch his back in the field, he wasn't sure they would help him with this. It wasn't illegal or immoral or any other fancy words the McGeek could come up with. It was… personal.

"Good morning," he greeted them cheerily, a huge grin on his face.

As usual, Gibbs ignored him, McGee glanced over from his computer for half a second before returning to his work, and Ziva simply asked, "Good night last night?"

He didn't bother to answer. "My apartment's being fumigated. Any chance of staying with someone?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "You are a pig," she replied.

"For asking that question?" he checked. "Because the last time you needed to stay with someone you announced it to the squad room as well –"

"No, a pig in general," she corrected him. "I do not want you to trash my apartment. Find someone else."

"McGee?" he tried, turning around and facing the geek.

"My sister's staying the weekend," came the reply. McGee's eyes did not leave his computer screen. "Sorry."

"Gibbs?" he asked in desperation.

A glare was his answer.

Tony nodded to himself. "I probably shouldn't have almost burnt your boat down last time," he admitted. "I'm going to talk to Abby!"

"Her apartment flooded," McGee recalled. "She's staying with the nuns."

"What about Ducky?!" Tony was beginning to worry.

"At the medical examiner's conference," Ziva added.

"The Director then," Tony concluded.

The glare he received from Gibbs made him take a step back.

"Not the Director then," he declared.

"Go to a hotel," Ziva sighed. "It would be easier on everyone."

Tony ran his fingers through his hair. There had to be someone in the whole building who would take pity on him…


	2. Sep 2

_**Sep 2**_

**Who doesn't love finding a letter from a friend hidden amongst the bills and the junk mail? No matter how close you live, become each other's pen pals.**

Jenny sighed as she began her morning routine. It never varied when she entered her office, invariably before Cynthia.

Find a safe spot for her coffee, hang her coat up, turn on her computer, return to Cynthia's office to collect her mail, check her emails, deal with anything urgent that couldn't wait, and finally sort her mail into various piles.

Oddly enough, sorting the mail soothed her. It gave her a chance to think, to have control over her day by deciding in what order she should deal with certain things. She was doing something that required little thought but kept her hands busy. It gave her an insight as to why Gibbs spent so much time with his boat.

Junk mail in one pile, internal mail in another, official documents in a third, letters from places outside the Navy, such as speaking requests, went in a fourth and a final pile existed for anything that didn't fit her order. Rarely did anything go in there.

But today she had an envelope with simply 'Jenny' written on the front. It definitely hadn't come through the mail, external or internal, and it wasn't official. Her fingers felt the envelope carefully as she deduced someone must have slipped it into the pile by hand.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she opened it. A plain piece of paper awaited her, covered with writing. She reached for her glasses.

That was better. She glanced at the bottom and recognized Abby's scrawl.

What was Abby doing, writing to her? They had email. Jenny normally found her way into the Goth's lab a few times a week. And Abby certainly knew where her office was located.

_To Jenny,_

_Hang on a minute, is 'Jenny' a bit informal? I mean you are the Director and perhaps I should address you as such. But this is meant for Jenny, not Director Shepard. Maybe I should go and ask Gibbs…_

_Well I didn't ask Gibbs in the end because he suddenly worked out who the killer was and went charging out of the squad room. I figured my question could wait. So while I wait for him to return triumphant, I thought I should continue writing._

_But I haven't even told you why I'm writing yet! Oops. You work too hard. Maybe I should phrase that better. You spend a lot of time in your office, working away, and I know I get lonely sometimes when it's just me and my babies. And I have a few pen pals and thought I could add you to the list._

_I know we can just get on the elevator and talk like normal people, but there's something fun about having a pen pal. You never know when the next letter will arrive so every day is exciting! As Director, I don't think you do anything exciting… that's not quite true because you do lots of important things and sometimes you join the silver-haired fox in the field, and you get our budget which is vital because I need an SEM-EDX… I'm going off topic again…_

Jenny sat back in her chair and smiled. Only Abby.

* * *

_A/N: I'm debating extending this, but I'm swamped. Is there any interest in an extension?_


	3. Sep 3

_**Sep 3**_

**Reach out to a friend in need, for the sympathy you feel is their pain in your heart, and both can be eased through sharing.**

Gibbs sat in a chair in Ducky's living room. The lights were off; the crackling fire provided the only way to see anything.

He didn't need the lights to pour his friend another scotch and hand it over. Nor did he need the lights to observe Ducky swirling his drink around and around, lost in thought.

It had been a bad day at work. Not connected to the job itself but because Ducky was clearly in turmoil. He had almost autopsied the wrong body, called Palmer 'Gerald' enough times for his faithful assistant to call for help in the form of Gibbs, and then seemed beyond confused.

It hadn't taken Gibbs long to persuade his friend to open up. A glass of scotch, a spot by the fireplace and the peaceful night around them made Ducky talk like no tomorrow.

Even though he had now fallen silent, Gibbs could still hear him thinking.

An old friend, a medical examiner like himself, had keeled over in the middle of an autopsy. Heart attack. Two months younger than Ducky. It had clearly thrown the doctor for a loop. His friends were slowly dying and he had no way of knowing who would be next. Or if it would be him.

Gibbs didn't have anything to say, didn't know what to say. Abby might have been able to soothe their friend with a huge hug, but Gibbs knew his presence alone was reminding Ducky that he was not alone in the world. He didn't have to say anything.

And Ducky knew they were both drawing comfort from each other. Gibbs didn't like to see his friend in such pain, but by sharing they were now prepared to see each other through this dark time.


	4. Sep 4

_**Sep 4**_

**A good friend is a mirror who helps you see yourself as you really are.**

Tim was always a little nervous about being summoned to Abby's lab, especially when they didn't have a case. It usually meant the Goth wanted to show him something, and that something was not always good.

There was the time she had waved a tub of maggots in his face in an attempt to cure his fear. And the time she had decided to test whether or not a tiny plant sample contained poison ivy by rubbing it against his skin and jumping for joy when he had begun to itch for the rest of the day. And the time she had tried to cure his hiccups by almost leaping on him and scaring him half to death.

Which hadn't worked either.

He knew she cared for him, but sometimes she showed it in ways that made him nervous. And even if she wasn't planning to handcuff him to a chair and test aromatherapy on him again, she was capable of dragging him into other things. Up to and including her latest attempt to get Gibbs and the Director together.

Stepping into the lab, he noticed her hard at work. That was always a good sign. She wasn't waiting to pounce.

She whirled unexpectedly and spotted him. "Tim!" she squealed, engulfing him in a hug so tight he was sure one or more of his ribs would break.

"Hey Abby," he managed to gasp.

"I have a present for you," she promised.

His heart dropped, even though he could not see any mischief in her eyes. If this turned out to be a cat…

But it wasn't. She led him into the back room and pointed at a beautiful mirror. "I thought it would look good on your wall," she smiled. "I saw it while I was hunting for a present for Ducky in that little antique store, but I knew it would be perfect for you."

He smiled back at her. It was perfect. He wasn't going to doubt her ever again.


	5. Sep 5

_**Sep 5**_

**A man's wishes are his magnetisms. – Ralph Waldo Emerson**

Ziva smiled to herself as she continued to admire the letter opener. It was perfectly weighted, exactly the right size and had a beautifully sharp edge. She had loved it from the moment she had laid eyes on it.

It was a good addition to her collection of 'office equipment that could double as a weapon'. Although she was not sure if it did not class as a weapon in its own right. She could use it to kill a man in a variety of ways.

She was still turning it over in her hands when Tony appeared in the squad room, late as usual. She smiled her greeting at him as he flung his rucksack down and turned his computer on.

"Does Gibbs know I'm late… Hand over my letter opener now!" he demanded.

"Gibbs is on a coffee run," she replied calmly. "He is aware that you were not here when he left. _This _is no longer your letter opener."

"Just because you took it from _my _desk doesn't make it yours," he pointed out, getting up from his chair and stalking over to her desk.

She held it out of his reach. "I have admired it for a long time," she confessed. "You barely use it."

"Doesn't make it yours," he repeated. "Give it back."

She waved it in his face. "Do you know how many ways I could kill you with this?" she inquired, smirking.

He gulped. "A lot?" he suggested.

"A lot," she confirmed. "Who owns the letter opener now?"

"You do," he decided.

She patted his cheek. "Fast learner."


	6. Sep 6

_**Sep 6**_

**Eating a gallon of ice cream all by yourself is considered gluttonous. Eating a gallon of ice cream with your friend is considered therapeutic.**

Abby knocked again on the door in front of her. She was starting to feel very nervous. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't her place.

The door opened a crack, before it opened more fully. Jenny stood in the doorway of her house, looking very bemused. "Abby?" she asked.

"Is it a good time?" Abby checked. "Because I know I probably shouldn't disturb you at home but I thought you might want some company and –"

Jenny simply stepped back and gestured for her to enter the house. Abby obeyed. She glanced around as she stepped into the hallway. Wow. She had to come here more often.

"What's wrong?" Jenny inquired.

Abby sighed. "_El jefe _is in London, tracking down the dirtbag. And it feels strange with him gone. I brought ice cream! I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a few tubs."

The Goth was relieved when Jenny's smile grew bigger. "I'll get us some spoons."

"You don't mind that I came over?" Abby questioned.

"You are always welcome," Jenny answered, disappearing into the kitchen.

Abby smiled. While Mommy would never admit it, she was worried about Gibbs too. They might as well worry together, and sharing ice cream was a cure for all ills.


	7. Sep 7

_**Sep 7**_

**There is nothing I would not do for who are really my friends. – Jane Austin, **_**Northanger Abbey**_

Tim winced as Ziva shook her computer in anger. "It is not an illegal operation," she yelled at it. "I just want to open my email!"

Suspecting it would not be long until a knife 'mysteriously' appeared in some part of Ziva's computer and the techs would become involved, he decided to get up and help her. He could only hope she would not use a weapon on him.

"Ziva?" he called before he got too close. "What's the problem?"

"Some 'Data Protection Executor' thing," she snapped, her eyes never leaving the evil machine in front of her. "Every time I attempt to open my email, it closes the whole program and claims it was about to fry my hard drive or something."

"It can be a little over-protective at times," he offered. "I could try to persuade it that your email is safe."

She stood up abruptly. "Thank you," she smiled. "I will go and see what is taking Tony so long in the evidence garage."

Tim watched as she left, glad there were no weapons sticking out of the computer. He wasn't explaining _that _to the techs again. Although it did mean anything sent down for repairs from their team tended to be dealt with immediately. Ziva scared a lot of people.

This was going to take forever and he wasn't even sure he could do it. But he had to try, for Ziva's sake. She was his friend and he would do anything he could for her.


	8. Sep 8

_**Sep 8**_

**A best friend absorbs half your sadness and amplifies twice your joy.**

Tony sat in the back room of Abby's lab, watching her through the glass.

He had originally come down to the Goth because he was upset. It was silly really – someone had stolen his car. But it had touched something deep inside of him and he needed comfort. Abby would always provide that.

There was something about her, past the dog collars and tattoos, that made her appear welcoming to everyone. Tony wasn't sure if it was her smile or her desire to hug everyone the moment she met them. But she could cure all ills by simply being present.

Even if she was in the next room. Evidence was evidence and it had to be run. Still, she had left him with Bert and promised she wouldn't go far in case he needed her. She was shooting him comforting smiles through the glass even as she mixed samples and prepped Major Mass Spec.

He had no idea how he was so lucky to have her in his life. Someone who cared for everybody. Someone who would share his sadness and his joy in equal measure. She didn't mind if it was because of something trivial; she knew it was important to him and she would accept it.

He smiled as she entered the room again.

"Major Mass Spec will be busy for a while," she told him. "So now I can spend more time with you."


	9. Sep 9

_**Sep 9**_

**Cherish your friendships as you would your greatest treasures, for that is exactly what they are.**

Gibbs stood in the doorway, unable to take his eyes away from the occupant of the office.

After a long day and an even longer night, Jenny had curled up on her couch to catch a few hours of sleep. Her heels rested on the floor, paper was scattered all over her desk and her coffee was going cold.

He had always enjoyed watching her sleep. She looked younger, more at peace. There was an innocence about her. Her breathing was soft and steady, more than capable of lulling him into the arms of Morpheus.

Instead, he chose to watch over her like a guardian angel. He grinned at the thought. She had once referred to him as an avenging angel, certainly not a protective one.

She stirred slightly and he froze, knowing his movement or lack of it wouldn't make a difference as to whether she woke up but not wanting to risk it either. She settled down after a moment and he breathed a sigh of relief. She needed all the sleep she could get.

Silently, he made his way into the room and opened one of the cabinets. Pulling out the blanket he knew was inside, he tiptoed to her side and placed it over her. He didn't want to her get cold and wake up too early. He knew she had been sleeping in her office for the past week, caught up in missions and dealing with politicians. What she really needed was a night in her own bed, but he didn't plan to tell her that.

Especially when the last time he had, she had glared at him and growled that she knew her limits.

He moved back to the door and continued to guard her. He would be gone before she woke, but he would protect her until then.


	10. Sep 10

_**Sep 10**_

**I count myself in nothing else so happy  
****As in a soul remembering my good friends. – William Shakespeare**

Ducky sat on his porch, watching the sun start its journey into the sky.

He had always found watching the sunrise to be peaceful. It marked a new day, a fresh day. A new beginning yet somehow the same. A chance to make things right.

He sipped his tea and continued to watch the orb of fire. Early mornings were a time to think ahead to the coming day. Mr. Palmer was going to be late due to a dental appointment, which meant Abigail would come in early to check up on him and offer her assistance. Jethro would also be by to keep an eye on him.

On one of his regular trips to the squad room, he knew he would run into the team. Timothy would give him a welcoming smile, offer him a seat and inquire about his health. Anthony would hide his junk food, pretend to be working and ask his advice on something. Ziva would smile and resume their previous conversation about the best place to hide needle marks on a body.

It was good to know that some things never changed. He could guarantee he would find himself in Abigail's lab at some point and be forced to turn the music down. He knew Ziva would pop by for some tea and a conversation if they did not have a case. And if they had a case, Jethro would be in and out like a jack-in-a-box.

He smiled to himself. Today would be a good day. He could feel it in the air.


	11. Sep 11

_**Sep 11**_

**There is no possession more valuable than a good and faithful friend. – Socrates**

Tony stood on the catwalk above the squad room, observing the Probie. It had been a long day and was only going to get longer.

For some reason everyone was unable to fathom, Metro had decided to charge McGee with murder. Tony had snorted at the suggestion; the Probie was not capable of killing anyone in cold blood. McCowardly even had problems when he fired his gun.

Gibbs and Jenny were deep in discussion with the Metro cop who had been picked to collect McGee. Tony privately pitied the young cop, but that hadn't stopped him from threatening to punch the man, which had resulted in his ejection from the Director's office.

Even though Gibbs had been looking as though he wanted to punch the cop as well.

But Tony trusted McGee, even if he didn't know the full details of the case. McGee could not kill a fly. McGee would have told them if he had battered his ex-girlfriend to death. Tony decided to ignore the fact that the Probie hadn't told them about a girlfriend in the first place. It didn't matter right now. He would start the teasing after this misunderstanding was cleared up.

He watched as McGee, alone in the squad room, put his head in his hands. Tony nodded to himself and headed down the stairs. He would keep the Probie company until Gibbs and Jenny forced the cop to go back empty-handed.


	12. Sep 12

_**Sep 12**_

**There is flattery in friendship. – William Shakespeare**

Abby squealed as she ran into Autopsy as best she could in her favorite platform boots. "Ducky!"

She watched as he turned around, surprised to see her. But he recovered well, opening his arms to accept her hug. "How are you, my dear?" he inquired. "I thought you would have been well on your way home by now."

She shrugged slightly. "Gibbs had my babies working extra hard today," she admitted. "They needed a little TLC before tomorrow begins. And then I realized you need a little TLC as well."

"T-L-C?" Ducky sounded it out. "Which one is that again?"

"Tender Loving Care," she reminded him gently. "I realized I haven't spent much time with you recently and I've been taking you for granted."

"You have been busy lately," he reminded her. "I know you care for me and I do not require daily reminders."

Abby ignored him and straightened up, as though she was about to start a speech. "Ducky," she began.

"Yes?" he nodded, already smiling softly.

She cleared her throat. "You are a wonderful person and the best friend I could ask for. You put up with both me and Palmer, which should earn you a medal in itself. You always listen to anything I have to say and you refuse to judge me."

Ducky was slowly turning red.

"You're the most patient man I've ever met," she continued. "You know so many things that I know you could never impart to me if I sat by your side every minute for the rest of time, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to know more. You're just… the best."

Ducky was now very red so she gave him a big hug.

"Thank you, Abigail," he finally managed to say.

Abby thought she could see tears in his eyes but decided to say nothing. For now, everything was perfect.


	13. Sep 13

_**Sep 13**_

**You are so fun and funny. When we're together, I feel like I'm all the better by association.**

Ziva looked up from her work to see Tony lurking suspiciously around Gibbs' desk. Whatever he was up to, this was not going to end well.

"Tony," she hissed.

He turned towards her, his most innocent look on his face. "What?" he answered.

"You are up to something," she declared. "And if it involves Gibbs, I will kill you before he gets the chance."

He seemed to way up the odds in his mind. "Rule Twenty Three," he decided in the end.

"Never date a woman who eats more than you do?" Now she was confused.

"Never mess with a marine's coffee," he corrected her.

"And you plan to break that rule?" While most people would have been scared at the very thought, the Mossad Officer was amused. And interested.

Tony held up a small carton of milk. "Only a little," he promised. "We need to wean him off the extra strong coffee that can stand up without a cup."

She nodded her head in agreement. "I will help you," she decided. "But only if we try to change Jenny's taste as well."

He smirked. "The only other person who can drink his swill. Yuck."

She stood up to keep a look-out as Tony added a touch of milk to the coffee. Then they settled down at their desks and trying to look as though they were working.

It did not take long for Gibbs to reappear. He reached for his coffee as two pairs of eyes watched him closely…


	14. Sep 14

_**Sep 14**_

**Your big heart and loving support are constant inspirations to me. Thank you for always leading by example.**

Tim stood in the doorway, thankfully unnoticed by the occupant of the lab. It was nice to observe Abby when she thought she was alone.

She was dancing along to the music emanating from her speakers, whirling Bert around the lab. She was lost in her own world, oblivious to everything else. It was oddly comforting.

She was a role model to him, in a strange way. Her big heart was something he adored. If she could love and accept everyone, why couldn't he? Although he had long since accepted that Abby was not a normal person.

Who else forgave people in the blink of an eye? Who else was always there when someone needed support, from Ziva to Gibbs? Who else would dare to hug everyone, including an irate Director?

She could listen to anyone talking about anything. Even Ducky's stories did not send her to sleep; she wanted to listen through to the end. Ziva would vent her fury with the Goth at hand. And whenever McGee needed to talk, he knew where he could find a willing ear.

Abby turned around unexpectedly and caught sight of him. Grinning widely, she waved him into her domain. "Timmy!" she squealed, launching herself at him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"


	15. Sep 15

_**Sep 15**_

**No matter how far apart we are, the space between our hearts doesn't know the distance of a map.**

Tony was bored.

It wasn't because McGee was holed up in Abby's lab as the beauty and the geek tried to hack into somewhere for Gibbs. It wasn't because Gibbs himself had disappeared into the Director's office an hour ago and had yet to emerge. It wasn't because he was procrastinating on his workload.

It had a lot of do with Ziva being in Israel. She had booked the time off and 'forgotten' to tell him. He had only found out as she got ready to leave the night before her flight, smiled and told him she would see him in a week.

Sneaky ninja Mossad chick…

He wondered what Ziva would be doing. She had mentioned something about seeing her relatives. Tony had visions of elderly aunts dueling with Ziva to check she was still in fighting form. Or would she be on her best behavior, smiling sweetly and listening to everyone's aches and pains?

He missed her, although he would not admit it to a soul. Things were different when she wasn't there. It wasn't normal without being threatened with pain and death via office stationary every day.

If the McGeek had been present, Tony knew he would be demanding he work out the time difference so he would know when to call. Ziva was not expecting any phone calls but he wanted to find out how she was.

A headslap brought him back to the present. "Returning to work, boss!" he answered.


	16. Sep 16

_**Sep 16**_

**I have an angel for my friend. – Phoebe Cary, "Answered"**

Abby sighed as she sat in her lab by herself. Her music was off and she had no plans to put it on for the foreseeable future. Now was a time of remembrance.

She missed Kate. However much she acted as though she got over her death, it wasn't true. Kate lingered in the back of her mind and Abby doubted she would ever go away.

Not that she minded. Kate had been a good friend and they had shared so much together. The Goth had been the one to persuade Kate to get a tattoo. They had giggled about it for weeks, especially when Tony had found out and wanted to know what it was.

They had teamed up against Tony, spent weekends together and generally had fun.

Ziva could never replace Kate; she was a different person in her own right. Nevertheless, Abby missed girly talks. She found it a struggle to talk to an assassin about her hair or her outfit.

She could still feel Kate's presence in her lab at times. Like today. It felt soothing, comfortable. Reassuring somehow. While most people were afraid of ghosts, Abby welcomed them.

She straightened her shoulders and decided to get back to work. But she chose to change her music first – jazz. Kate would appreciate it.


	17. Sep 17

_**Sep 17**_

**Amongst true friends there is no fear of losing anything. – Jeremy Taylor**

Ziva went back through her desk with all the force of a hurricane. The first time, she had been careful and thorough. This time she was leaving nothing to chance.

"Is something the matter?" Tony's voice echoed across the squad room.

She ignored him, knowing for sure they were not in her desk and starting to check the area around it in case she had dropped them. Nothing. What had she done with them?

Her memory was blank. From habit, she knew she dropped them into her top desk drawer every time she came in, but they definitely were not there now. Cursing under her breath, she began to search her desk again.

"What's going on?" This time it was McGee's voice.

"She's lost something," Tony explained. "Probably her mind."

Without looking up, she threw a letter opener at him. Judging by McGee's laugh, she guessed she had come close to killing her partner.

"Definitely her sense of humor," Tony continued, sounding shaken. By now she was going through her coat pockets.

"Can we help you, Ziva?" McGee's voice sounded calm and kind.

She looked up to glare at the two males who had been watching her. "I cannot find my car keys," she informed them.

"You normally put them in the top drawer in your desk," Tony offered.

Her glare intensified. "I have checked there," she warned.

"Okay," McGee soothed. "Why don't you step away for a moment and I'll have a look. Sometimes a fresh set of eyes is all you need."

She chose to take him up on his offer, moving over to Tony's desk and allowed McGee to go through hers.

"Why don't I get to go through your desk?" Tony whined.

"Because I do not trust you," she answered. His back jean pocket was bulging suspiciously.

"Surely you could break into your car and hotwire it?" he continued.

"I would rather not." She made a grab for the bulge and was pleased to find her keys. Her initial jubilation turned to fury within seconds.

"DiNozzo!" she yelled. "You stole my car keys!"

He ran out of the squad room and she followed him. She was going to make him pay for this…


	18. Sep 18

_**Sep 18**_

**Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence. – George Washington**

Ducky smiled warmly at the redhead as he entered her office. Jethro was right; she really did work too hard.

In a sense, he was glad of her work. She had raised the agency to new heights, secured an impressive budget and kept the place running like clockwork. It was not as though she was wasting her time in the office.

And yet he doubted she allowed herself much time to relax anymore, to be herself. She had no family at home to relax with at the end of a long day. It was probably why she worked longer hours than Jethro did.

Even as a probie, he had been able to see her diplomatic side. She kept Jethro out of trouble on numerous occasions. She was courteous to everyone she met, with the exception of their suspects, whom she simply scared the living daylights out of.

And she carried those skills into her new job. Although a lot of people thought they knew her, they were wrong. She somehow made herself seem open and yet revealed little except to her closest friends. Ducky felt honored to consider himself one of the few.

She did not trust easily, but when she did she would tell that person a lot. She still had her secrets – she wouldn't be Jennifer without those secrets – but they numbered only a handful. She would do anything to help someone in her closest circle.

He was pleased to see her smile back at him as he settled into a chair. She put her pen down, removed her glasses and pushed the file in front of her to one side.

"How can I help you today, Ducky?" she smiled.


	19. Sep 19

_**Sep 19**_

**A true Friend is the best Possession. – Benjamin Franklin, **_**Poor Richard's Almanack**_

Abby charged into the squad room in a state of panic, running into Timmy in her haste.

"Abby?" Timmy called even as she ran further into the room. "What's wrong?"

"Has anyone seen Bert?" she almost screamed.

The team froze in shock. Gibbs was the first to recover. "No. Need a hand?"

Ziva shook her head rapidly in response while Tony just looked puzzled. "You're about to have a panic attack over _Bert_ being missing? When I disappear, do I get the same treatment?"

"No," Abby growled at the same time as Gibbs. "You aren't Bert. He's always there for me! What am I going to do without him?"

Gibbs drew her into a hug before she could break down and start wailing. "We'll find him," he promised. "Where have you looked?"

She pulled back from him slightly, taking deep breaths. "He's not in my lab. I think someone's stolen him."

Gibbs pulled her close as tears sprang to her eyes. She heard him barking out orders. "Ziva, evidence garage. McGee, double check the lab. Tony, start in Autopsy and work your way up the building."

"What about the squad room?" she murmured into his shirt. She was glad he didn't seem to mind her crying into it.

"We can search together," he offered, holding out his hand. She gratefully latched onto it and they began to search the nearby desks.

"Will you kill whoever stole him?" she inquired.

"Depends whether you misplaced him or someone moved him," he told her. "Let's focus on finding him for now."

"And what if we don't find him?" She was starting to panic again.

She almost missed his reply, muttered under his breath. "Lord help us."


	20. Sep 20

_**Sep 20**_

**A friend must not be wounded even in jest. – Publilius Syrus**

Tony knew he was going to be lucky to walk away from this with only a concussion. However, he still followed Gibbs obediently into the elevator.

It was not his fault. Or rather it was. He had been being an idiot for the last few days, harassing the Probie. Perhaps a little more than he should have done. Even so, he had not expected the McGeek to start yelling at him in the middle of the squad room to stay off his back.

It had definitely not helped his case that Gibbs had just returned from a coffee run and had heard every word. McGee had rapidly vented his displeasure in Tony's ears before storming off, evidently without having seen Gibbs.

During the course of the yelling, Tony had learnt that this week had not been the best time to trouble his teammate. McGemcity had a deadline coming up and his publisher was all over his back. His mother was ill and in the hospital and McGee wanted to be there but couldn't get a flight until next week. His sister had practically burnt down his apartment when she had stayed over at the weekend.

And now Gibbs was going to chew him out. Big time. There was no escaping the confines of the elevator.

Tony wasn't sure he wanted to escape. He'd screwed up. Should have been paying more attention. Definitely shouldn't have been picking on McGee like that. He needed to be yelled at so he could start to feel better.

And so he wasn't as stupid next time.

Gibbs opened his mouth and Tony winced. He was a dead man for sure.


	21. Sep 21

_**Sep 21**_

**Friends know that sometimes the best way to be there for each other is to communicate with silence.**

Jenny continued to read her case reports in the semi-darkness of her office. The lights were almost all off; only the one on her desk illuminated the room as best it could. She didn't need much to read by.

There was something about reading in the dark. She even read books at home in the dark, including the ones Jethro had termed 'trashy romance'. The lack of light made her focus on the page more. In her office or study, it allowed her to read between the lines of reports. In her sparse spare time, it allowed her mind to imagine more easily.

She dropped the completed casefile onto a pile, casting a look of warning into one of the darkest corners of her office before picking up the next report.

Jethro was sitting in that corner. He had chosen to spend some time with her, taken one look at the mountain of files in front of her and settled down without saying a word.

They didn't need to speak, had never needed to speak. He knew she was comforted by his presence and that was all that mattered. Knowing he was there, even out of sight, made her feel safe.

She could feel he was getting restless, that he would soon give up and drag her home, make sure she went to bed at a reasonable hour for a Director of an armed federal agency. She sent him a look which clearly warned him she only had two more folders to go.

As she put down the final file, he rose and came towards her. They said nothing as they left her office together.


	22. Sep 22

_**Sep 22**_

**Fame is the scentless sunflower,  
****With gaudy crown of gold;  
****But friendship is the breathing rose,  
****With sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "No Time Like the Old Time"**

Tim was not sure how his feet had made their way to Abby's lab, but he knew why. Even on autopilot, he knew the Goth would protect and comfort him in her own way.

He definitely knew what was troubling him. But he couldn't explain it to Ziva; she simply would not understand. Tony would tease him relentlessly. And while Gibbs scared every bad guy in the US, he couldn't do much about this.

Abby could. Or at least she would know how to make him feel better. She would find something for him to take his mind off it. She would hug him and find some way to make it all well again.

The lab was empty. This was a surprise; Abby practically lived there. She could be found there on weekends and late into the night. It was only midday on Monday; she couldn't have gone far.

As if on cue, the elevator dinged and the Goth emerged, smiling brightly as normal. She caught sight of him and her face fell slightly.

"What's wrong? Tell me and I'll kill them and leave no forensic evidence," she promised, fiercely hugging him.

He drew strength from her bear-hug. "I don't want you to kill anyone," he began.

"Is it Tony? I can make him suffer," she grinned.

"It's not Tony," he answered. "I was at a store yesterday, just buying my groceries, when someone recognized me as Thom E Gemcity."

"Is that good or bad?" she checked, pulling up two chairs and almost forcing him into one.

"Bad," he sighed. "Everyone suddenly wanted my autograph and a word. And then people started calling their friends and family and I was pretty much mobbed."

"Poor Timmy," she cooed, hugging him again. "You want to be like Gibbs – a silent hero. Writing books under a pseudonym, not wanting attention. That's so sweet."

He smiled to himself as she continued to hug him. Abby could make anything right.


	23. Sep 23

_**Sep 23 – Mary's birthday**_

**You are interested in anything, and in everything that relates to your friend. – Charles Dickens**

Ziva watched as her partner ran into the squad room, frantically looking around. She hid a smirk as he dropped into his chair, visibly relieved he had not been spotted by Gibbs.

He was late. Very late. She had been about to call her contacts in an attempt to find him. The only reason she had not bothered to do so before was because Tony was often late.

Never this late.

This time she smiled to herself. She would make it her mission to find out exactly why Tony DiNozzo was so late this morning.

"How are you, _Zee-vah_?" he asked, hitting his computer in the hope it would load quicker.

"I am fine," she replied. "Your duck is cooked though."

"Goose," he corrected her. "And I'll survive. What did you do last night?"

She looked at him suspiciously. Tony always pried for information. But today he looked… almost as though he was genuinely curious. She wondered whether to reach for a paperclip as a warning before deciding to treat him as an adult.

"I spent the evening with Jenny," she confessed. "We were discussing methods to kill people with office supplies. She gave me a very interesting tip on post-it notes –"

"Damn," Tony swore. "I was so sure she was spending time with Gibbs."

She glared at him. "You are not interested in what happened last night," she growled. "You are only interested in a possible relationship between the Director and Gibbs."

He looked scared. "Tell me about your evening." He gave her a brilliant smile, one she saw straight through.

"I may have to try the post-it note idea that Jenny gave me," she warned, hiding another smirk at the way his eyes widened in fear.

* * *

_A/N: Just a quick warning - I haven't seen the new episode yet and I don't want to be spoiled. All will be good tomorrow._


	24. Sep 24

_**Sep 24**_

**Count me your friend from this time forth. – Mark Twain, **_**Roughing It**_

Gibbs was not entirely sure when he had become friends with Jennifer Shepard.

He knew he had been attracted to her from the moment he had met her. Redhead, beautiful, legs that went on forever, someone who stood up to him and challenged him. But he had been married at the time and he did not want a female Probie on his team, definitely not one as attractive as she was.

She had been determined to prove herself though, and barring the odd mishap he couldn't help but admire her. Throwing up in Autopsy had given him material for a week, until she had asked him sweetly about what had happened during his first autopsy. Interpreting his suspicious silence correctly, she had offered to go and ask Ducky.

He had rapidly dropped the subject.

They had found themselves spending more and more time together. She had no problem in working the long hours he demanded from his team, she came up with ideas faster than her other teammates and she was prepared to work her way into the ground.

He had admired her tenacity. While he usually had to force some of his team to follow up every lead, she would do it without prompting and would often find something. He may have relied on his gut but her intuition was good.

Somehow the late nights at he office and the sheer amount of time spent together during the day had translated into a friendship. A friendship he did not plan to give up for anything.


	25. Sep 25

_**Sep 25**_

**Friendship is nothing else than an accord in all things, human and divine. – Marcus Tullius Cicero**

Tony watched his partner as she stalked into the squad room. He had found it useful to observe her first thing in the morning; it gave him some idea what mood she was in and hence what kind of day he would have.

Today she looked relaxed. He was instantly on his guard. She generally looked this relaxed when she had been to one of her martial arts classes and she wanted to try out some new moves on someone. He was usually top of that list.

She settled into her chair and powered up her computer. It did not take her long to spot him staring at her.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he instantly replied.

She glared at him before striking up a conversation. "I watched this movie at the weekend. _The Prestige_."

"Wait," Tony gasped. "Ziva David watched a movie of her own accord? Are you ill?"

The glare he received was on a par with one of Gibbs'.

"Did you enjoy it?" He tried a different tack.

"It was very good," she declared.

"I love that movie too," he admitted. "So many twists and turns…"

"Much better than the book," she added.

"Of course you'd read the book," he muttered.

She threw a paperclip at his head. "I thought the book was interesting, but the movie improved it. Which is rare because usually the movies are worse than the books."

"BLASPHEMER!" he shouted, drawing attention to himself from all over the squad room.

A headslap cut him off. Evidently Gibbs had heard the last part.

Ziva stuck her tongue out at him. "Gibbs?" she asked. "_The Prestige_. Which is better, the book or the movie?"

"The movie," came the answer. "Don't you have work to do?"


	26. Sep 26

_**Sep 26**_

**We cannot expect the deepest friendship unless we are willing to pay the price, a self-sacrificing love. – Peloubet**

Abby pouted at Tony. "Please?"

He glanced at her. "I lost fifty dollars to Ziva this morning," he pointed out. "I don't have much money to spare, especially if the ninja Mossad chick decides to start betting again."

"You can win it back off her." She appealed to his competitive nature. "I know you can."

"Ask Gibbs."

"I _am _asking him," she pointed out. "He's at a communication seminar all day, which leaves you in charge of the team which makes you Gibbs. And Gibbs would pay for my lunch."

"What about McAuthor?"

"Someone stole his wallet on the bus this morning. Do you not pay attention to anything?" she questioned.

"If he'd mentioned it, I would have remembered," he promised. "Seriously. Thom E Gemcity taking the bus to work – that's enough to tease him for a week."

"I left my wallet at home," she reminded him. "And I need lunch."

"Can't you make something in your lab?" he wondered.

"I can boil you from the inside out and not leave a trace," she warned. "But I cannot make something edible from the chemicals in my lab."

"Ask Ducky," he suggested.

She raised herself up to her full height and glared at him. "Tony DiNozzo, if you do not buy my lunch I will give Ziva a paperclip!"

He winced. "What do you want?" he offered.


	27. Sep 27

_**Sep 27**_

**I find friendship to be like wine, raw when new, ripened with age. – Thomas Jefferson**

Palmer smiled to himself as he watched his mentor preparing to go home for the night.

It surprised him that he felt their friendship grow every day. He supposed it had something to do with Ducky's role in his life; after all, Palmer knew he was still learning and Ducky delighted in showing him new things.

But it was more than that. When he had first come to work at NCIS, he had been nervous and made lots of mistakes. Instead of yelling at him or throwing him out, Ducky had befriended him and stayed patient. And gradually he had begun to improve both his skills and his friendship.

Ducky told everyone almost everything about his life; few topics were off limits. It helped them develop – working with someone who had no secrets made him a more open person. Perhaps too open at times, but he was working on that. Especially when Agent Gibbs glared at him for making an inappropriate comment.

He smiled at Ducky as the great man left with a cheery wave and a reminder not to stay too late himself. Palmer didn't plan to stay for long; one more table cleaned and he would be straight out the door.

Tomorrow would be another day. More skills to learn, more history to be imparted by Ducky, and a chance for their friendship to develop further.


	28. Sep 28

_**Sep 28**_

**Friendship begins with liking or gratitude. – George Eliot, **_**Daniel Deronda**_

Tim wasn't entirely sure when he had become friends with Ziva, but he knew he had warmed to her before the others.

He had always liked to give people a chance, to treat people as he liked to be treated, and so he had helped her out from the start. After all, she was in a strange new country and was bound to experience some problems.

It didn't take him long to decide he liked her. She could stand up to Tony and Gibbs, was a very kind person herself and she was thankful for his assistance. He helped her unpack her belongings into a new apartment and showed her the local area.

As her way of thanking him, she cooked. And she was a good cook. She would make him eat something homemade, a rare luxury for him given his odd working hours. He simply did not have the time to cook with Gibbs as his boss.

But Ziva would let nothing faze her. She adapted rapidly to her new surroundings and always wanted to know more. She looked after him in her own way. When he saw everyone else giving her the cold shoulder, he was even more determined to be there for her.

He thought of her as an older sister. She protected him, yet teased him. She could be as friendly back to him, yet she snapped at times. They cared for each other in a platonic way.

He smiled as he thought of her. He would rather be her friend than her enemy.


	29. Sep 29

_**Sep 29**_

**Opposition is true Friendship. – William Blake**

Gibbs had little warning of Fornell's arrival. Usually a phone call would start the hostilities, before one would appear at the other's place of work and start shouting. It was the way things had been for years.

So he was a bit surprised when Fornell appeared in front of him and began yelling.

"Keep your nose out of the Baggert case!" his old friend roared.

Gibbs blinked in confusion. They had picked up the case three full days ago and no one had mentioned the FBI's involvement. And it wasn't as though they'd done anything out of the usual – they had even secured a warrant before searching his house.

Anyway, Baggert was low-life scum, suspected of having murdered a Petty Officer for nothing but the cash in his wallet. He shouldn't even have been on the FBI's radar. Clearly Tobias was keeping secrets again.

He turned his attention back to Fornell who was continuing to rant. "You are disturbing a very delicate operation which has taken the FBI years to set up –"

Gibbs jerked his head towards the elevator; Fornell understood in an instant. If he was going to get yelled at like this, he'd rather it happened out of sight. DiNozzo seemed far too excited by the whole situation.

As soon as the emergency stop was pulled, Fornell shut up.

"Joint investigation?" Gibbs offered.

"We flip leads after twenty four hours?" Fornell suggested.

They nodded to each other.

"How long should we wait?" Tobias asked.

Gibbs glanced at his watch. "Bout ten minutes," he answered. "Remind me to slap DiNozzo when we get back."


	30. Sep 30

_**Sep 30**_

**When you look at my doodles, you don't need to tell me that I've colored outside the lines. You tell me that you love my choice of colors.**

Abby smiled as she continued to doodle on the paper before her. She had nothing to do for at least another hour – all her babies were in use and she was waiting for them to finish and give her something. She was content to have a little free time for once.

The elevator pinged and she sat up straight. Why was Gibbs here? Did he know something she didn't? Was one of her babies about to get a match?

But it wasn't Gibbs; it was McGee. She smiled warmly at him and gestured for him to sit next to her.

He sat. She could see confusion in his eyes so she hugged him tight. When she let go, he looked better.

"What?" she demanded.

"You not hugging is as scary as Gibbs without coffee," he told her.

She giggled. "Is that why you're down here? Has someone split our fearless leader's coffee?"

"We're safe," he reassured her. "I need your report on PFC Andrews' belongings."

She closed the folder in front of her and handed it over. He looked shocked. "What?" she repeated.

"You've been doodling on it!" he protested. "I can't exactly hand that in to JAG."

"I've done it before and no one's noticed," she pouted.

"And what happens when I hand Gibbs a file covered in… male genitalia?" he continued. "What if he thinks I drew it?"

"Tell him it was me?" she suggested.

He rolled his eyes. "Abby?"

"What?"

"Could you print me another copy? Please?"

She smiled in delight. "Of course."


End file.
